


A Wrinkle in Time

by redeem147



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Quantum Leap
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redeem147/pseuds/redeem147
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam leaps to Sunnydale, and finds he isn't exactly human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wrinkle in Time

Al looked down at his hand link to Ziggy. “Good job. Say goodbye, Sam.”

 

“Goodbye Sam.” Engulfed by a wave of blue static, Sam Beckett leaped.

 

And looked down at his hand, dipped into a bag of Doritos. He dropped the chip into the bag, taking a deep breath to try and counteract the familiar feeling of disassociation. Wondered who he was this time. He looked around the room for a mirror. Well, room was pushing it. Stone walls do not a prison make, but this was a fair estimation of a crypt. Diffuse light came through small windows at the top of the wall. As he looked around, he found a pale young man laid out on a slab. Sam was a doctor; he knew when a person was dead.

 

And the dead man sat up. “Evenin’, Clem. Gonna share those chips, or what?”

 

Sam held the bag out to him, muttering under his breath, “Oh, boy.”

 

 

The dead man had gone out to “pick up some fags”. Sam hoped he meant cigarettes. Not that there was anything wrong with that. God, he was confused. He was wearing some sort of shirt made of burlap, so it seemed, and his pants were loose and baggy. They looked like something out of the distant past. Medieval, perhaps. He’d never lept that far back. He pulled up the shirt and looked at the drawstring on the pants. Seemed to be made out of rope.

 

“You want to keep playing with yourself, or you want to know about this leap?” a familiar voice asked.

 

Sam spun around. “Al! You don’t know how glad I am to see you! This is one strange leap. I’m in a tomb, or something, and the guy who lives here is dead. I think.”

 

“Technically, he’s a vampire.” Al stared at him. “Boy, are you ugly. I haven’t seen that many wrinkles since the retired fan dancers’ convention. Anyway, Clem, that’s his name, is very lucid. The leap hasn’t affected him at all. Seems really nice.”

 

“The vampire’s name is Clem, too?” questioned the ever more confused physicist.

 

“No. Your name is Clem. His name is Spike.”

 

“Tell me one thing, Al.” Sam tapped his fingers against his leg. “Is this Hallowe’en again?”

 

“Sit down and listen.” Al watched Sam perch himself onto the sarcophagus. “This is Sunnydale, California. Home of the Hellmouth. Weirdness happens. You are a demon named Clem.”

 

“Demon?”

 

“Shh up and listen. Your best friend is the vampire, Spike. And if you don’t do something, later tonight your friend Spike is going to try and rape his ex-girlfriend Buffy.”

 

“Buffy? What kind of name is Buffy? Wait a minute. You said ‘try’.” Sam shook his head. “If he doesn’t do it, why am I here? Not that I believe any of this anyway.”

 

“Because he tries,” Al continued, “Spike takes off for Africa to get a soul.” He pointed with the cigar in his hand. “Stop looking at me like that. Anyway, Spike’s ex’s best friend goes ballistic and tries to destroy the world. And Spike isn’t here to help stop her.”

 

“You said ‘tries’ again. She didn’t do it.”

 

“Nope. But she’s so messed up that a year later she tries again, and this time she succeeds. All of Sunnydale is dragged into the Hellmouth, ripping Southern California apart with the worst earthquake it’s ever seen.”

 

Sam crossed his arms. “What am I supposed to do about it?”

 

Al looked down at the colorfully lighted object in his hand. He pushed some buttons. “Ziggy says there’s a ninety percent chance you’re here to stop Spike from going to Buffy’s. Keep him in Sunnydale for the big confrontation.”

 

Sam wasn’t convinced. “What year is it, Al?”

 

“2002.”

 

“Okay,” Sam sighed. “I’m relieved. Now I know this is some dream. That’s past my lifetime. It’s only 1999. I can’t leap beyond the span of my life.” His expression was suddenly one of shock. “Wait a minute. I lost you. Lost the project. Got unstuck in time. When you and Beth got back together. There was no Project Quantum Leap.”

 

“You don’t remember, do you? That damn Swiss cheese memory of yours. You don’t remember leaping into Beth and telling me to meet with the past you and start the project? Don’t remember sorting everything out? Well, not everything. You still can’t control your leaping or get back home.” Al tried to put his holographic hand on Sam’s shoulder, but it passed right through. “Sam, it isn’t 1999 here in New Mexico. It’s 2005. You are in your past.”

 

Sam seemed overwhelmed. “I don’t remember much after the bar.”

 

“I don’t understand. What bar?”

 

“Never mind.” Sam answered. “Just tell me what to do.”

 

Al pushed more buttons, as the hand link squeaked. “Talk to Buffy. Try to keep her away from her house, so she isn’t home when Spike gets there.”

 

“How will I find her? Where is she? What does she look like?”

 

Al consulted Ziggy. “Zazoom! Twenty-one, petite, blonde, beautiful big eyes. Toned. Svelte. Tendency to kick butt wearing mini skirts.” He chewed on his cigar. “Why don’t I ever get to leap?” He looked down at the gold band on his left hand. “Oh, yeah. Beth. Never mind.” He looked down at the link. “She’s in a cem…Cement?” He whacked the hand link. “Cemetery. Hunting vampires. She’s a vampire Slayer. And she was dating a vampire? That’s one mixed up chick.”

 

“Which cemetery, Al?” an increasingly more exasperated and skeptical Sam asked.

 

“Could be a few. Even this one. You’d better get going. You’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

 

 

Luckily, he didn’t have to look very far. He found a young blonde woman at the north end of the cemetery. He didn’t see Buffy’s young sister heading towards the crypt from the other direction.

 

Buffy turned and smiled. “Hi, Clem. What’s up? Guess you were at Spike’s, huh?” She looked down at the stake she held, twisting it in her fingers. “How was he?”

 

“He’s fine. Uh, Buffy.” The girl was very cute, if very young. Only twenty-one, Al had said. She looked fragile. He didn’t really know what a vampire Slayer was, but he’d expected someone tall and burly. Nothing like this. “So, how are you?”

 

“I’m okay. I was just…” Sam had distracted her. She didn’t see the big vampire until he was almost on top of her. The creature kicked at her, and she slammed back into a headstone, breaking it apart with her back. The vampire was instantly on top of her, pummeling her into unconsciousness, as its fangs lengthened for the kill.

 

Sam acted instinctively. He spun around and kicked the vampire away from the girl. The creature seemed surprised at the dexterity of the lumbering wrinkly demon. Sam grabbed the vampire by the arm and flipped him against a tree. The creature exploded in a cloud of dust as a protruding limb pierced its chest. Sam stared in shock. “What the hell?”

 

He looked back to tend to the girl, but she was gone. Somehow she must have regained consciousness and left, though how he didn’t know. A holographic door opened and Al stepped through. “Way to go, Sam.”

 

“Did you see that?” Sam asked. “I think I killed a vampire.”

 

“That’s not all you did.” Al looked at the hand link display. “According to Ziggy, there’s a eighty-seven percent chance that now Spike not only tries to rape Buffy, he succeeds.” He looked at his friend, his face pale. “And Spike is so upset with himself that he commits suicide.”

 

 

Buffy couldn’t remember exactly what had happened. She must have passed out for a bit, and when she came to, her head was foggy and aching. She didn’t even register her surroundings, just picked herself up and limped back home. Her back hurt worse than she could ever remember, and as she walked her knee ached too. She must have twisted it, perhaps sprained it. The headache pounded harder and harder. She downed some painkillers as soon as she got into her kitchen, then pulled herself up the stairs. Maybe a hot bath would help.

 

 

Spike trailed Dawn to the downtown strip, where he saw her meet with Janice. She wouldn’t have accepted his company or protection if she knew he was there. She was still upset that he had hurt Buffy. Sleeping with her friend Anya had been the biggest mistake he had made in a long time. But at least it hurt her. That gave him hope that she still cared, the way he had been sure she cared. He would apologize; make it right. Win her back. He headed towards Revello Drive.

 

 

“So what do I do?” Sam asked. “How do I fix this?” He watched Al shrug. “That’s no help. Where does he attack her?”

 

Al looked back at the display. “Ziggy doesn’t know for sure. There’s a ninety-five percent chance it’s her house.”

 

“Which is where?”

 

“Revello Drive.”

 

“Which is where?” Sam asked again, impatiently. He had a bad feeling that time was running out, for everyone.

 

“Ziggy’s downloading a map of Sunnydale. I’ll take you.” The hologram ran through the cemetery, passing through headstones and trees. Sam wove his way behind him, trying to keep up to Al’s more direct path.

 

 

Spike paused at the bottom of Buffy’s staircase, taking off his duster and laying it over the handrail. He walked slowly up the stairs.

 

 

Buffy groaned as she turned on the hot water facet, clad only in a bathrobe. She wished she could shake the fog out of her head, and the pain.

 

 

Sam paused at the front door. He could see his reflection in the little glass window. It wasn’t possible. He stood in shock.

 

“Sam, what are you doing?” Al yelled. “Get inside.”

 

 

“Spike,” Sam called up the stairs. “Where are you going?”

 

The vampire turned at his friend’s voice. “What the bloody hell are you doing here, Clem?” He looked towards the upper level. “I have some private business with the Slayer.”

 

“Leave her be,” Sam pleaded. “I was in the cemetery with her. She got hurt. Don’t bother her now.”

 

“Hurt.” Spike’s face fell. “How bad?”

 

“I don’t know. I guess she’ll be okay, if she made it back here herself. But I think we should leave her alone.”

 

“I need to talk to her.” Spike gripped the handrail so tightly the wood crunched under his hand. “Need to make her understand.”

 

“Talk to her later.” Sam walked up the staircase, stopping to put his hand on Spike’s shoulder. “Talk to her when you’ve calmed down. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

 

“What are you talking about? Something I’ll...” He was interrupted by a scream from the bathroom. “Buffy!” He ran up the rest of the way two steps at a time.

 

The girl was bending over, clutching her head. “It hurts. Oh, god...”

 

Spike pulled her into his arms. “Shh. I’m here, love.” He stroked his hand gently across her temple. “Shh.”

 

“Let me look at her.” Sam examined her pupils. “She might have a concussion. We should get her to a hospital.”

 

“Right.” Spike swept her up in his arms and carried her out of the room. “I’ll take her. You wait here for Nibblet, and let her know what happened.”

 

“Nibblet. Okay.” Sam shook his head. “Oh, and Spike? Be careful with her.”

 

Spike looked down at face of the woman he loved, tears brimming in his eyes. “Always, mate.” He hurried down the stairs.

 

 

Some friends of Buffy’s had turned up at the door, one after another, none answering to the name Spike had indicated, and Sam directed them to the hospital. Al stood beside Sam in the living room. “You done good. Buffy gets medical help, and she’s okay. Spike takes such good care of her, that she admits her feelings to him and he stays to help with her friend. He helps talk Willow, that’s the friend, out of going crazy. He gets through to her because he’s the only one who really understands what she’s going through. Aw, Ziggy says her girlfriend gets hit by a car and dies. That’s rough. Maybe...” He hit the buttons on the link. “Nope. That has to happen. Damn. And Spike helps them all capture the three nerds. Whatever that means.”

 

“What about Spike’s soul?”

 

“Spike and Buffy go off together, to Africa, and he still wins his soul. This time she’s there to support him, and he doesn’t fall apart.”

 

Sam looked around him. “So, why haven’t I leaped?”

 

Al walked through the front door and back into the room. “Maybe that’s why.”

 

Sam opened the front door. A tall teenage girl was wrapped in an embrace with an older looking boy. From the looks of things, they were performing some major oral surgery. Sam cleared his throat. “Ahem,” he coughed.

 

Dawn jumped back. “Oh. Ah. Clem. What are you doing here?” She turned to the young man, who was wiping lipstick from his face with the back of his hand. “See you tomorrow, Mickey.”

 

“Um. Yeah. See ya.” He took a long look at Sam before turning away. “You should really see a good dermatologist, guy.”

 

Dawn shut the door behind him. “What’s up?”

 

“Nibblet?” Sam asked.

 

“Huh? Geez, Clem, you’ve been hanging around Spike too much. And why are you here, anyway?”

 

He led her to the couch. “Sit down. Buffy was hurt.”

 

“What? Oh, my god. Where is she?”

 

He patted her hand. “Spike took her to the hospital. I’m sure she’ll be okay. Do you know what time it is?”

 

“Late. I know. Why?”

 

“Aren’t you kind of young to be getting in so heavy with a guy his age?”

 

She pulled back. “None of your business much, Clem. I’m a big girl.”

 

“I know.” He leaned forward, trying to make her understand. “I also know how hard it is to be a pregnant teenage girl. And one thing can easily lead to another. Be careful.”

 

“Right,” Dawn said. “You know this how?” She thought a minute, contemplating his earnest, concerned expression. “Okay. I’ll be more careful. I just get lonely sometimes.”

 

“We all get lonely.”

 

“Well, I can’t sleep until I know Buffy’s okay. How about we watch a movie? Spike said you like The Wedding Planner.”

 

“The Wedding Planner?” Sam looked at Al, panic in his eyes.

 

“I wouldn’t worry about it Sam.” Al waved goodbye, as Sam was once again whisked away in a wash of blue light.

 

 

It looked like an old hotel lobby. A bald young African American man was standing in front of him. “I don’t even know where to start looking for Angel, Fred.” He took Sam’s hand in his. “But I can think of a few things to do while we figure it out.”

 

Sam felt the man’s arms snake around his waist. “Oh, boy.”


End file.
